


Bang bang, my baby held me down

by Tyu



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Inappropriate Use of Lightsabers (Star Wars), Jangobi Week (Star Wars), Jangobi Week 2021, M/M, Time Travel, Timeline What Timeline, mention of slavery, terrible puns, weapon kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29161356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyu/pseuds/Tyu
Summary: Snapshots of Jango and Obi-wan, through the years and through the realities."It's been a long time coming, right?""I guess your debt to me is cleared.""What are you doing, Jetii? What do you want?""I can be merciful."
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 14
Kudos: 150
Collections: Jangobi Week





	1. Day 1: Enemies to lovers, Cuddles

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt at Jangobi week 2021.  
> Nothing was betaed, please tell me if you catch any typo or mistake.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5 times Jango and Obi-wan touched, +1 time they finally were in a relationship

Obi-wan never thought he would get here, nestled in Jango’s arms, both of them calmly lying on the bed and waiting for the sun to rise. Well, after some consideration, it still took them several years to get there. But now he was comfortable, and not in a hurry to go anywhere else. He squeezed the hand Jango had on his waist, slowly stroking the hipbone.

“It's been a long time coming, right?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“This. Us. From a certain point of view, we have been sort of courting for years now.”  
“Courting. Really. That's how you describe it.”  
“And how would you describe it then? Think about it. Do you remember when we first met?”

Jango snorted, and nosed down the nape of his neck.  
“Sure I do, _ner jetii_. You ran into me, almost brained yourself on my armour.”  
“I did not. You ran into me. I guess being a big bad Mandalorian warrior means you don’t need to pay attention to your surroundings like us mere mortals.” Obi-wan couldn’t help but tease.  
“Mortals? You can’t really say that, what with your _osik_ Force powers.”  
“Please, I was hardly the only Force sensitive human on this planet. And that’s not the point.”  
“If you say so. In any case, you were a baby jetii and you looked completely lost.”

* * *

  
1: On Agamar

Obi-wan sighed, and forced himself to stop tugging on his Padawan braid. It was a very obvious nervous tell, according to Master Qui-Gon, and it would do him good to learn how to keep his entire body language impassive. He understood that, but it was still comforting to him to feel the hair and the beads through his fingers. But he was 19 now, he was supposed to be past the age of needing self-soothing gestures. Just because his master was (once again) nowhere to be found, whereas he was left alone in a cantina in the middle of an unremarkable Outer Rim planet… he didn’t have any real reason to worry (even less panic). He should calm down, focus on the Force and try to find his way back to his master. He straightened his back, closed his eyes and put his hands on his lap. He intertwined his fingers and inhaled deeply. One breath. Two. Right. He was ready now.

He opened his eyes and stood up. He could faintly feel his master through their bond. It looked like a barely perceptible blue line, stretching from his chest to wherever Qui-Gon was, presumably. He squinted, trying to focus on the light, and started walking. He left the cantina, and ventured on the streets.

There were a lot of people, different species, moving around him, talking, screaming at each other. It was difficult to focus with so many distractions around. Obi-wan sped up his pace, jogging a little, and drifted into the crowds. He turned left after a market stall, and ran directly into something cold and very solid. He almost fell backwards from the shock, but something caught him by the waist. He blinked, trying to see past the stars in his vision, and raised his head up. And up. There was a Mandalorian in front of him. A warrior in full beskar’gam. A Mandalorian warrior that was holding him by the hips. And he himself had his hands spread out on the warrior’s chestplate. He blinked again. From another point of view, one could say that their posture looked… intimate. The warrior pointedly cleared his throat. Obi-wan blushed and jumped a few steps away.

“Oh, I’m very sorry. Please forgive me for-”  
“ _Ne’johaa_! What are you doing in these parts, _Jet’ika_?”

Obi-wan swallowed his apology, caught off guard. That tone of voice was a lot more aggressive than he thought was justified. Clearly the warrior was in a bad mood. He looked at his stance, hands close to his blasters on his hips, shoulders forward, knees slightly bent. He re-evaluated. He was in a very bad mood and ready to take it out of Obi-wan, apparently. He had to defuse the situation.

“I’m here with my Jedi master. We’re on an official mission to the Aeos system, but we had to make a pit stop here. We have no business with you, and we aren’t looking for any trouble.”  
“The Jetii are always trouble by themselves”, the other snarled.

He obviously had a very poor opinion of the Jedi. Obi-wan examined him carefully. His armour was beskar’gam, green, orange and red. Green was duty, orange was lust for life, and red was honoring a parent, if he remembered right. And he had a mythosaur skull on his pauldron. A mythosaur skull… that was the symbol of the True Mandalorians. He thought they had all but disappeared, but apparently not all of them. And this one was probably still feeling bloodthirsty for Galidraan. Understandable, but inconvenient for him, that had no ties to that disaster whatsoever. Well, except for Master Dooku who was technically his grandmaster, but he had never met him, so it didn’t count. He took a small step back, again, to put himself out of range for hand-to-hand combat. Then he bowed his head, trying to be as respectful as he could.

“ _Ni ceta_ , Mando’ad. I am aware of what happened at Galidraan, and even if I was too young to be involved in any way, I offer you my sincerest apologies for your loss.”

The warrior growled, but didn’t answer. Obi-wan kept his head bowed for a few seconds, then straightened up. He didn’t dare move first. A beat passed. He could tell the warrior was scrutinizing him behind his helmet. Suddenly, he raised his right blaster in Obi-wan’s direction, his finger carefully away from the trigger.

“How old?”  
“...Excuse me?”  
“How old were you when Galidraan happened?”  
The words were clipped, as if forced through gritted teeth. Obi-wan eyed him cautiously.  
“I was barely thirteen at the time.”

The warrior’s hand twitched. A few more seconds passed. Suddenly, he made a sharp motion with his wrist, gesturing with his blaster to tell Obi-wan to go away

“Don’t forget you owe your life to Jango Fett, kid.”

Obi-wan bowed again, and quickly fled from the scene. That was a little more action that he’d thought he would get into today. Where the kriff was Master Qui-Gon?

* * *

  
2: On Hevurion

Jango ran as fast as he could, trying to regulate his breathing. He didn’t know who was the _utreekov di’kut_ responsible for this disaster, but it was a dead man walking. As soon as Jango could put his hands on them, they were going to rejoin their ancestors. Oh, but Jango would make it painful first. He was supposed to be capturing an easy bounty, not running for his life because it seemed the entire city was falling down on his head!

He had already lost his gloves… somewhere, and his jetpack was sparking in a way that meant he definitely couldn’t use it right now. He didn’t want to blow himself up like an idiot. Which was really kriffing inconvenient right now, because he could really use an air getaway. Another building crashed next to him, close. Too close, he needed to go faster! He jumped from his platform to another one, a little higher, but the ground crumbled under his feet when he landed. He stumbled, unstable, tried to find his balance again, but after a terrible grinding sound, the metal gave way and fell into the air, and him with it.

He managed to grip a more solid beam with his right hand, but he was dangling above the void, the ground so distant underneath that you couldn’t see it. He tried to get his breath back, panting so loud he almost couldn’t hear anything else through his helmet. He swung his left arm and succeeded in catching the beam with both hands now. But pulling himself up was impossible for now. His arms were shaking, the adrenaline still pumping in his veins but not enough when he needed it most. _Rangir_! It couldn’t end here, he wasn’t going to die like that!

He could vaguely hear people shouting not far away. But he didn’t have enough air in his lungs to shout and attract their attention to his perilous situation. He tried to drag himself up again, but his left shoulder twinged and he almost lost his grip. Suddenly, a pale hand appeared in front of his eyes. He raised his head, and saw a young redhead holding out his arm to him. Wait, that face was familiar. Who…?

“Here, take my hand! I’ll pull you up. Come on, we don’t have much time!”

The voice pinged something in his memories. But really, it wasn’t the time!  
He grasped the other forearm tightly, and tried to help. The redhead grunted, firmly planted his feet into the ground and hauled him up. Impressive, that young man was stronger than his slim frame suggested. He let go, and took off his helmet to take big gulps of air, hands on his thighs. When he straightened, he turned to the redhead to thank him. But the other’s eyes widened abruptly, looking behind him, and he shouted: “Move!”

Jango didn’t have time to react, but he felt something strong push him toward the young man. He almost felt like he was using his jetpack, his body barely touching anything before he was thrown over the other. They both fell down heavily, a few feet away from where they were a second ago. A truly ear-shattering screech of metal rang out, and the ground in front of them tumbled down in the void. That was… definitely way too close for comfort.

They stood up, and Jango turned again towards his guardian of the day. He was about to open his mouth when he remembered from where he knew him. It was the Jet’ika from Agamar, two or three years ago.

“Are you alright? Were you hurt? I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, I tried to be as fast as I could, but there was a lot of debris…” and now the baby jetii was apologising again, after saving his life. Ridiculous.

“I’m fine Jet’ika, calm down.”  
The redhead frowned, clearly thinking. Then his expression cleared up.  
“Oh! Mister Fett? Is that you?”   
Oh frip, why was the kid smiling now? Last time he almost shot him! He should be resentful, or scared, not smiling!  
“...Yeah, it’s me. I guess your debt to me is cleared, kid.”  
“Obi-wan.” What was that now?  
“My name. It’s not “kid”. I’m Obi-wan Kenobi, Mister Fett.”

He really didn’t care. And there was no reason to call him “mister” like that, it sounded almost… respectful, in the kid’s mouth. Wait, there was no way that kid was strong enough to pull him up and out of harm’s way in a few seconds.

“Kid. Did you use your powers on me?”   
He couldn’t help but bark the words. He hated Jetii _osik_. The redhead looked guilty, but angled his jaw in a way that said he was going to be stubborn about this.

“Yes, I did. I’m sorry for doing it without your consent, but we were a little pressed for time! And I think you’d prefer staying alive, even if it means getting… a little too close to the Force for your taste.”  
He grumbled, but couldn’t deny that.  
“I guess I’ll forget it this time. You did try to erase your debt the way you could.”  
“I didn’t have a debt to you!”  
“Oh? I didn’t refrain from killing you last time then?”  
“... Maybe you did, but I just saved your life, so we’re even now. Fett.”

He didn’t want to admit he was trying not to smile. That redhead was a little spitfire, alright. And even with his ‘Force’, he was stronger than you would think at first look. He had good shoulders, and defined biceps, even if his wrists were a little too thin. And his blue eyes were shining, clearly irritated. He was fun to mess with. He came closer, just to see what he would do. Kenobi stood his ground and glared at him.

“Sure. We’re even now, kid.”  
“I’m not-” he didn’t let him finish. He grabbed the back of his neck with one hand, and ruffled his spiky hair with the other, before tugging on his braid.  
“Still a baby Jedi, huh? Hm, I guess you’re alright, Kenobi. Even for a baby Jedi.”  
He let him go, stepped back and smirked at him. The redhead gave him a dirty look and put his braid back behind his ear.  
“It’s perfectly normal to still be a Padawan at 22, I’m in the average range-”  
“Yeah, I don’t care. Bye now!”

He twisted on his heel, turned into a direction away from the kid, and started walking. He could hear Kenobi sputtering behind him. The kid was all flustered. He was still smirking when he finally arrived on his ship.

* * *

  
3: On Kamino

Obi-wan was panting. Jango really was a good fighter. He gave as good as he got, and they seemed pretty evenly matched now that Obi-wan was older. But the fight was not made easier by the constant rain on Kamino. That planet was really too wet for his taste. He continued to grapple with Jango. Now that his lightsaber was too far away to catch without the Force, and that Jango had lost his blaster after he kicked him, the only way forward was close combat. 

He ran at Jango, feet first. He kicked him in the head (well, helmet) and tried to wrap his thigh around his neck, but Jango grabbed his other leg and spinned him to destabilise him. He fell on his back on the wet floor, but quickly kicked him in the head again. This time his blow was strong enough to throw the Mandalorian away, and it was his turn to fall on his back.

They both took the time to get up before clashing again. Foolishly, Obi-wan decided that a headbutt was a good idea. He regretted it immediately. Headbutting a beskar helmet was not a fine moment for him. Jango retaliated instantly, and his headbutt was far more effective. Obi-wan was launched a few feet away. He had to blink back the black edges in his eyesight. Oh, that wasn’t good. He struggled to stand up, but managed it in time to see Jango fire up his jetpack and come directly at him. He didn’t know where his lightsaber was, and he didn’t have other weapons to help him. He could only use the Force.

Jango charged him, and activated his fibercord whip. The whip wrapped itself around Obi-wan’s arm. He didn’t have a choice now, he had to find a way to stop the other before getting dragged in the air. He dodged Jango, and tried to focus as best as he could. He folded the Force around the Mandalorian’s jetpack, and tried to break it before he went dangerously high. The effort made a headache spark up behind his eyes, and he was suddenly dragged on the floor by his wrist. After being towed in the rain for a few seconds, he succeeded in planting his feet against a stone beam, and stopped the movement. He tried using the Force again, suppressing a flinch as his headache intensified. Under his gaze, the jetpack sparked, and led Jango down at frightening speed. The other crashed into the ground, and his jetpack unhooked itself from his back and flew directly into the roof of the building, exploding in a small fuel fire.

Jango didn’t move, face down. Obi-wan approached him cautiously, and took his wrist to try and detain him. But the Mandalorian wasn’t down for the count yet, and he knocked his legs away from him. Obi-wan collapsed on the other, his elbow striking Jango’s neck at an angle, unhooking his helmet, which rolled away. They both groaned and let their heads fall. They stopped moving, and tried to remember to breathe. Considering the multiple shocks to their heads, they probably both had at least a concussion.

After a few minutes passed in silence, both of them trying in vain to get their breath back and maybe consider standing up, Obi-wan heard the patter of light steps coming close to them. He managed to raise his head enough to see that it was Jango's kid. Boba, if he remembered correctly. The child was looking at them, scowling fiercely.

“What did you do to my _buir_ , Jetii?”  
“I think. It'd be more accurate. To say. What did we do. To each other.”  
Talking was difficult, his headache hadn't let up in the least. Jango was groaning, and he flapped his arm in Boba's vague direction.  
“Shh not too loud. _Buir_ 's got a concussion.”

Reassuring. He came to the same conclusion himself. So they were both injured, and in no state to continue the fight. Now what? Boba took his father by the arm, and tried to help him stand up. They failed miserably, beskar'gam was heavy. Very cautiously, Obi-wan went to his knees, and managed to get up after wobbling a little. He turned to help the Mandalorians.

“We should. Go back inside. The Kaminoans could. Help heal us.”  
Boba shook his head, still scowling.   
“No, _buir_ wanted to get in the ship, so we'll get in the ship.”

Obi-wan didn't have the strength or motivation to argue. Fine, Jango's ship it was. Holding on to each other, they succeeded in walking to the ship, and collapsed, undignified, on the pilots' seats. Boba brought the medpack, and took his father's helmet off. Obi-wan took a headache pill, and managed, with difficulty, to focus on the Force to help clear his thoughts as much as he could. When he evaluated he was in as good a state he was going to get, he looked at his companions. Boba was trying to put bacta on the back of his father's head, but Jango wasn't making it easy, making jagged movements with his arms and repeating “Good boy Boba, good.” Obi-wan could see the child needed help. He cleared his throat.

“He needs rest to recover completely, but for now some bacta will be enough, and you have to make sure he doesn't fall asleep.”  
The child grimaced at him, looking offended.  
“I know! It's not the first time I've helped my buir!”  
Better not to give his opinion to that statement.  
“I could help too. With the Force. I promise I won't do anything bad to him.”  
Jango and Boba looked at him, unconvinced.  
“I don't like Jetii _osik_.” Certainly, he hadn't made a secret of his distaste for anything Jedi.  
“I'm not the most talented at healing, but a few seconds of Force use would help. You would be able to focus better, and it would lighten the pounding headache I'm sure you have right now.”  
Jango groaned again.  
“Fine, whatever. We're watching you.”  
“Of course.”

Obi-wan leaned over Jango, and slowly put his hands over his temples. He closed his eyes, concentrated on the Force and tried his best to heal the other as much as he could (which honestly, wasn’t a lot - but better than nothing). After a handful of silent minutes, Boba squirmed and put his face right in front of Obi-wan’s, squinting at him suspiciously.  
“Are you done?”  
Obi-wan opened his eyes, and delicately traced small circles on Jango’s skin.  
“Almost.”  
Jango’s gaze was fixed firmly on him, and he had a contemplative expression on his face. Obi-wan smiled at him. “Feeling better?”  
Jango snorted. “It’s fine Jetii. No need to look at me like that, with your pretty blue eyes and that smile…”

Oh. What was that now?  
Boba turned to his father, wrinkling his nose in a weird grimace.  
“ _Buir_ , what?”  
Obi-wan couldn’t help but go one step further.  
“While I am very glad you think I’m pretty, that doesn’t answer my question. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head again?” He patted his head to illustrate his meaning.   
Jango sputtered.  
“That’s not! That’s not what I said! You’re twisting my words Kenobi!”  
“Oh, so you do remember my name then? Fascinating. I almost thought you had forgotten all about little old me, Jango.”  
The Mandalorian looked ready to throw down with him again, but for entirely different reasons. Teasing him was fun, and it seemed that the slow healing interlude had cooled down tempers. They probably weren’t going to fight again immediately, so maybe they could have a civilized conversation. Obi-wan dodged Jango’s slap and sat back down on the other seat, laughing.

* * *

  
4: On Coruscant

Obi-wan was relishing a very rare moment of peace. He was alone, at Dex’s diner, savouring a nerfburger in silence. The 212th was on Coruscant for a refill of fuel and munitions, and they had 3 days of leave. Everyone was determined to enjoy it to the full extent, himself included. No Anakin or Ahsoka around, no other Jedi masters, no men to look after, no paperwork… This was the dream. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a brief occasion to relax. He really needed it. They all did, this war was gnawing on their morals and eroding their faith and hope. They all longed for a break.

The small bell above the entrance door jingled. Obi-wan raised his head, and realised the new person was no-one else than Jango Fett. It was a little funny, how they kept running into each other, years after years. He inclined his head towards Jango, acknowledging his presence. Jango turned his way and joined him at his table. He sat down on the opposite chair, took off his helmet, and sighed.

“Rough day?” Obi-wan asked.  
“Rough year is more like it. But you know how it is, High General Kenobi.”  
He shook his head.  
“You’re impossible. But I suppose your help and good will in providing intelligence on the GAR are worth putting up with your… _distinctive_ personality.”  
Jango chuckled, then winced and gingerly rotated his shoulder. Obi-wan examined him.  
“Are you hurt?”   
Jango huffed, disgruntled.  
“It’s nothing. There was a fight-”  
“Seems there’s always a fight with you.” he retorted, smiling to soften the blow.  
“You really aren’t in a good position to make remarks like that, Kenobi.”  
He sighed.  
“I suppose you’re right. So, what happened?”  
“Nothing much. I took a few hits, landed wrong and now my kriffing shoulder is bothering me. My wrist isn’t working too fine either.”

It was Obi-wan’s turn to sigh. “Really, you should be taking better care of yourself.”  
“Now that’s the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy. You’re far worse than I am.”  
“It’s not a competition, Jango. Now let me look at your injuries.”  
“I’m not taking my armour off here, in the middle of a diner on Coruscant. I like Dex, and he has a solid reputation, but my armour stays on.”  
Obi-wan took out the small medpack he now always had on him.  
“Well give me your wrist, at least.”

Jango agreed, took off his glove, then his vambrace, and extended his left wrist towards him. Obi-wan took it delicately, and turned it around, softly stroking and pressing the bones to evaluate if anything was broken. It didn’t seem so. Jango exhales a little forcefully when he pushed on the small gap between his thumb and his wrist bone. Obi-wan took a bandage, and started slowly wrapping it around Jango’s palm, wrist and forearm.

“I don’t think anything is broken, but there is at least a sprain. Please be more careful, you do need your hands for your work, don’t you?”

Jango didn’t respond. The Jedi raised his head, curious. The other was intensely focused on their intertwined hands. Obi-wan realised he had finished applying the bandage and was mechanically petting the skin around it. He almost stopped, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. But… he had only been thinking he desperately needed to relax only a few minutes ago. And he already knew that Jango found him attractive, and he wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that the interest wasn’t mutual. So, why not use a tried and true method to unwind together? He kept caressing Jango’s forearm, and licked his lips.

“Well, if you’ve got time tonight and if you need a change of scenery… We could take this to a more intimate setting, where you would be able to take off your armour. Entirely.”  
Jango’s eyes snapped to his face, searching for a trick. Obi-wan returned his gaze, calm, teasing, his mouth curled at the corners. He was perfectly genuine with this offer. A few seconds passed. When Jango didn’t seem inclined to answer one way or another, Obi-wan coughed. Maybe that was pushing a little too far. He pulled his hands back to himself and put them in his lap to hide their fidgeting. His smile widened.

“Or not. Apologies if that was inappropriate. I’ll leave you to your dinner.”

He stood up, and started walking towards the exit. When he came up to Jango’s side, the bounty hunter struck fast as a viper and grabbed his arm, preventing him from moving further away.

“I didn’t say no, Kenobi.”  
Obi-wan raised his eyebrow.  
“You didn’t say anything.”  
“True. But I’m saying it now: are you really interested? What about being a Jedi and all that?”  
He huffed, amused. That particular argument always came up in these discussions.  
“Jedi aren’t expected to be celibate, you realise. We are not supposed to have attachments, because they lead you to put one particular person above all the others, and that’s selfish. That’s not what being a Jedi is about. But we have relationships, platonic or not, and we can have sex. Some do, some don’t, some are fine with it but can live without. Jedi are diverse, like any other people really.”

Jango squeezed his wrist, still looking up at him.  
“And you? In what category are you?”  
He smiled.  
“Well I did just offer you sex. What do you think?”  
Jango paused for a second. Then he firmly pulled on his arm. Going with the motion, Obi-wan bent over him, putting his ear close to Jango’s mouth.  
“I think we’re going to go back to the miserable little hotel room I’ve reserved, and we’re going to spend the night making the entire neighbourhood unable to sleep. Sprain or no, I’m going to make you scream, _trac’ika_.”

Jango stood up, and put his arm around his waist. Obi-wan smiled again, very amused by the complete confidence the other suddenly emanated.  
“I’m looking forward to see if you’re a man of your word, Jango.”  
They left the diner in a hurry.

* * *

  
5: On the Negotiator

Jango stomped around the ship, paying no attention to all the clones watching him walk past them in the hallways. He hadn’t seen Obi-wan in months, and now that they finally had the opportunity to talk (and more), the _di’kut_ was hurt. Kote told him he was in his quarters, so that’s where Jango was heading, and no one was going to delay him, legitimate uncertainty about his presence on the Negotiator unaccompanied or not.

He entered Obi-wan’s room unceremoniously, and planted himself in front of the desk, glaring at his _atin_ friend. The Jetii was still working, when the medic apparently specified he needed rest. He was impossible.

“ _Tion gar mirsh solus_?”  
“ _Nayc_. There’s just so much work to be done, I can’t let everyone else handle it.”  
“That’s called delegating. You might try it for once, High General.”  
Obi-wan stopped what he was doing and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  
“I told you not to call me that. You’re not a part of the GAR, and you don’t care about ranks anyway. And you know it makes me uncomfortable.”  
“Well I’m uncomfortable with you not even trying to listen to your medic. So get away from the desk and let me look you over.”

Obi-wan huffed, but obeyed. He stood up from the desk and went to sit down on his bed. Then he opened his arms wide, gesturing at Jango to get on with it. The Mandalorian approached, and began running his hands all over his body, carefully testing the muscles and the joints. Obi-wan hissed when he cupped his flank, so Jango took his tunic off. His torso was cautiously wrapped. But it seemed to be his only real injury. Jango patted him, playing with the give of the soft flesh on his belly.

“So you got bruised ribs. No choice but to limit your movements and sleep a lot until you recover.”  
“Yes, but it is annoying. I have other things to do, so-”  
Jango cut him off and grabbed his comm, calling Kote.  
“Kenobi is going to rest for at least 8 hours. Don’t bother him for anything and don’t come see him, he’s confined to his room. I’ll watch him.”  
Kote gave him a surprisingly bitchy look, considering he still had his _buy’ce_ on.  
“You’re not my superior and you have no authority on the 212th, Fett. How do I even know the General is there?”  
Obi-wan chuckled and answered.  
“It’s fine, my dear Cody. Jango is only being his prickly, blunt self. And he has decided to try to be more stubborn than me, it looks like.”  
Kote tilted his head to the side.  
“That might do you some good to see what that’s like from the other side, Sir.”  
Jango smirked.  
“He’s got you there.”  
“Yes, well. In any case Cody, call me if there is a problem, don’t hesitate.”  
“At least try to get _some_ sleep, General.” The comm switched off.

That was some strong insinuation there. Jango pensively looked at Obi-wan, who clearly recognized his expression, and grinned at him.

“If you are inclined, it would certainly help me relax.”  
He shook his head.  
“With your bruised ribs, there’s no way we’re having athletic sex right now.”  
“Who said anything about _athletic_? Basic orgasms are always good to help you fall asleep.”  
He tried not to bristle, but had a feeling the other saw right through him.  
“If you’re able to stay still, I might use my fingers on you. I know you like them.”  
“Is that a challenge, my dear?”  
“It doesn’t need to be, you’re too naturally fidgety to win.”  
“Or maybe I can handle myself, if you’re not feeling up to your usual high standards.”

That little… when was he going to learn to stop taunting everyone in his path?  
Jango slowly pinned him down on the bed, and extended his arms above his head, holding his wrists in one hand.  
“My standards are always up.”  
“Apparently they’re not the only thing that’s up.” was the brazen reply.  
“You complaining?” Obi-wan parted his lips on the next breath.  
“I’m not. You are particularly… adept with your hands.”  
“Well these hands are going to make you forget how you even got injured in the first place.”  
The redhead wriggled a little against him, full of anticipation.  
“Do your worst then.”  
“Oh, I will.”

* * *

  
+1: On Coruscant

“You really were unlikeable at first you know. I thought I hallucinated for a bit when you ruffled my hair on Hevurion.”  
“You looked so cute, all fuzzy disgruntlement, it was funny.”  
“And you looked way too smug for someone who almost died barely a minute before.”  
“But well, you were happy I was at Dex’s that time right? You were the one to proposition me, after all.”  
“As if you weren’t clearly interested. I was only thinking it was a good opportunity, and fortunate timing, that’s all.”  
“Sure, that’s why you all but jumped me when we were behind closed doors.”  
“In any case, if we’re talking about right now, I think your present… contentment is all due to me”, Obi-wan teased.  
Jango made a sound like he was choking.  
“Cont-contentment? Oh _ner jetii_ , I’ll show you contentment. In a few minutes, you’ll be more content than you’ve ever been in your life!”  
“Oh, is that so? Promise?”   
Jango rolled them over, and loomed over him, putting his hands above his head.  
“I don’t need to promise anything, I’m a man of my word. And I’ll show you right now.”  
“Hm, better be very convincing then.”  
Obi-wan said. His eyes were bright with joy, and he was chuckling. Truly a delicious sight. Jango leaned down to bite at his mouth.

* * *

ner jetii: my jedi  
osik: shit  
Ne’johaa: shut up  
Jet’ika: baby jedi  
ni ceta: sorry, a groveling apology  
utreekov di’kut: empty head waste of space  
rangir: to hell with it  
buir: parent  
ner jetii: my jedi  
trac’ika: (i invented that one) little fire  
atin: stubborn  
tion gar mirsh solus: are you an idiot/ are your brain cells lonely  
nayc: no  
buy’ce: helmet


	2. Day 2: Time Travel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wasn’t doing this. If he had to relive part of his life, then he was going to do things differently.

Obi-wan opened his eyes. When Vader struck him down, he didn’t expect to wake up. That part was… confusing to say the least. At first, it didn’t feel like he was fully corporal, but he could feel the Force swirling around him. And he could move his fingers. He straightened up, stretching his back. Oh. There was no pain. No numb muscles, no aching joints. That was new. He looked down at himself. His hands were smoother than he remembered, his belly taut. He patted his cheeks and his hair. A well-trimmed, red beard. Hair that hasn't lost its colour yet, long enough to reach and curl a little on his shoulders.

He examined his surroundings. He was in the archives, in the Jedi Temple. On Coruscant. And the Force was blindingly bright, full of lights, full of so many force-sensitive people living here. He blinked, overcome with emotion. It had been so _long_. He had almost forgotten how it felt, how comforting the feeling of being surrounded by other similar-minded, peaceful people was. He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself and understand what was happening.

He raised his head. The representation of what he knew now was the Kamino system, south of the Rishi Maze, was floating in front of him. Oh. Was it… when he tried to track the assassin sent after Padmé? But. That meant he was… in the past? Did he time-travel? Did the Force decide to throw him back into his own past after his death? He thought he had finally done something that might count as redemption. Saving Luke and helping him on his path to become a powerful Force user, and more importantly a good man. If that wasn’t enough to repent for all his earlier mistakes and failures, particularly with Anakin, then… what was the point? Was he supposed to do it all over again? He shuddered. No, he wouldn’t be able to do that. Even if Kamino wasn’t the start, it was still too early. There was still so much pain, so much heartache to come…

No. He wasn’t doing this. If he had to relive part of his life, then he was going to do things differently. And actually, he was getting angry. Why couldn’t he finally have some rest? Peace and quiet? Ha. Peace. For himself. Clearly that wasn’t in the cards. Well in that case, he was going to let himself have some fun. He stroked his beard with his right hand, thinking.

He apparently already had the discussion with Yoda. He arrived just before leaving Coruscant, just before going to look for that mysterious system that had been erased from the archives. He hadn’t met Jango Fett, or the Kaminoans yet. Nobody knew what was coming. Only he had the advantage of hindsight. In that case… yes, he was going to go off script. He was going to shake things up, blindside people and see how that would turn out. Why not? Didn’t he deserve to “go apeshit” sometimes, like Ahsoka liked to say? He was tired of holding on the image of the composed, impassible Jedi master. Time to do whatever he wanted.

He played with a lock of hair, contemplating his options. He had been a little vain, at that age, concerned with his looks. But, if he wanted a change, he could push further. His hair was long enough for short braids. He could slightly modify his clothes… Fett could be a key player, if he didn’t die at Geonosis. And if he remembered correctly, there had been some connection between them, last time. Something intense when their eyes locked. There were possibilities there… he could seduce Fett, and see where that path led. Oh yes, that could be very interesting indeed. 

He would need to take some care with his appearance. But he could afford to leave Coruscant a few hours later than the first time. Arriving at Kamino later had no reason to change anything in itself. It would be a difficult balance to change only what he wanted. But he would do it, because why else would he be here, right now?

* * *

He left Coruscant, R4 beeping at him and asking why they were late. He had no intention of explaining anything to the astromech, but he still had some smudgeon of fondness for it. And if being scolded rudely by a droid reminded him of another one, that he left with Luke, well. He had always been sentimental.

He brushed some dust off his shoulder, examining himself. He had twisted his hair in two braids, surrounding his skull like a circlet. He had intertwined a few slim golden ribbons into the braids, and they caught the light when he inclined his head at a certain angle. His tabard showed a lot more collarbones than before, and was shorter, letting anyone behind him glimpse the way his leggings hugged his ass. He smirked to himself. Fett wasn’t going to know what hit him.

* * *

After being shown around the facilities at Tipoca city, Taun We walked him to Fett’s quarters. He had been careful to shelter himself from the rain this time, but not too much. He looked artfully dewy, not soaked to the bone. Taun We left him to his conversation with the bounty hunter, and he immediately let his eyes become a little wider, and his voice a little throatier. Fett was in his blue tunic and trousers, his armour as well hidden as last time (that is, not much at all). The same intense connection he remembered established itself while they were talking, not taking their eyes off each other.

Fett rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, and Obi-wan had to fight himself not to let his eyebrows fly up. To his elbows? Really? He thought that was maybe more overt than last time. Oh, he was definitely interested. That was some heavy flirting, for a Mandalorian. It was a good sign for him. He was already on Fett’s sights, he only needed to up the ante and make the other crack. Maybe a spar… Mando’ade liked their close quarters combat after all.

* * *

He swiped Fett’s legs from under him. But the other reacted quickly, and managed to flip him over his flank and flatten him against the mat. Fett loomed over him, his right arm barely pushing on his throat, but clearly there. A threat, but not a pointed one. At least, not yet.

“What are you doing Jetii? What do you want, really?”

Obi-wan tilted his head back, looking at him through half-lidded eyes.

“I'm only trying to explain how _impressed_ I am with your work. With you. You did a wonderful job training this army, the clones are very efficient, but there's no mistaking the... original _flavour_ so to speak.”

Fett was scrutinising him, their bodies squeezed together from head to toe. There was no mistaking some natural biological reactions in their position. Hmm yes, that worked very well for his goals. And if he had to be honest, it wasn't going to be a hardship to fall into bed with the famous bounty hunter. He had always thought the Vode were easy on the eyes, and there were no regulations or power imbalance issues this time, not with the Prime. And Fett had a lot more life experience than the clones. Yes, Fett looked like a man who knew how to fuck, and fuck well.

Obi-wan was more than ready to have a good time. It had been decades since he touched another in an intimate setting, even more since he had a great, hard, deeply satisfying romp in the sheets. If he had to take one for the team, he was ready to sacrifice himself on the altar of Fett's lust. Men were always easier to manipulate when they thought with their cocks, not their brains. And if Obi-wan enjoyed himself immensely in the meantime? Well that was only a bonus.

“I am grateful for the opportunity to taste your products.”

Fett's eyebrows jumped up to his forehead.

“You mean 'test'”.

“Ah, of course.” He licked his lips, a slow movement that attracted Fett's attention. His eyes were now firmly fixed on his mouth.

“It is very nice of you to offer a _sample_ ”, he breathed out, lowering his voice, making their conversation seem intimate.

Fett put a little more pressure on his collarbones, and shifted his weight to completely pin him down on the floor. Obi-wan offered his throat and relaxed. He went completely pliant in Fett's grip, submissive, and parted his lips on a sigh.

“If all you wanted was to get thrown down and fucked Jetii, you only had to ask”, Fett growled, his voice already taking on a deeper register. Obi-wan faked a shudder, and mewled quietly. He caught Fett's gaze, pupils blown.

“Please.”

“What? I can't hear you.”

Oh, so he judged him accurately then. That was a relief. Jango would want to be as dominant as possible with a Jedi, and he would enjoy having complete control over him. Well, Obi-wan could surrender control for a while, especially if it got him what he wanted. He could play at being a mouthy, bratty young man who was in over his head and desperate to be handled by someone who knew what they were doing.

“Please, Jango. Please fuck me.”

Fett smiled. It looked mean.

“Of course Jetii. We're going to get up and walk back to my room. I'll keep my hand on you, and you'll keep your eyes on the floor, not looking or talking at anyone else. Got it?”

“Yes”, he murmured.

“Yes who?”

He blinked, and shifted his expression to look coy.

“Yes, Sir.”

Fett squeezed his throat and let him go, slowly getting up before catching the nape of his neck with one hand. “Good boy”, he rumbled, already looking smug.

Obi-wan wrestled with his self-control to keep his mouth from smirking. Ah, men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd apologise for the terrible puns/wording, but it made me laugh.
> 
> Obi-wan: I'm not a slut, but who knows. If I see a competent Mandalorian, a bitch might power-walk.  
> Jango: If the wild tooka yowling in my bed every night is a Jedi, I might have misjudged them...  
> Then Obi-wan leads Jango by the dick and they save the galaxy, the end \o/


	3. Day 3: Undercover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jango and Obi-wan go undercover to a convention for rich and amoral businessmen.  
> They didn't expect the mission to go quite like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're reached the Explicit rating folks!  
> Chapter warnings: Explicit content, Dom/sub dynamics, Absence of kink negotiations, Dubious consent, Inappropriate use of a lightsaber  
> Please don’t be like these two idiots and jump headfirst into a scene without talking about it! Remember, during sex, communication and clear consent are key!
> 
> This chapter is a gift for bureau_pinery. Thank you Tosh for providing us with such delicious art 💕  
> In correct order (warning: NSFW !!) https://twitter.com/bureau_pinery/status/1357424278308806659  
> https://twitter.com/bureau_pinery/status/1347179901384876032

Jango grumbled under his breath, annoyed by the situation. He had been sent back to his room (well, the one generously offered to Obi-wan and him for the duration of the convention). Sent back to his room! Like a child, or a temperamental teenager! He paced the narrow space between the bed and the door. All because he didn’t let that _duraan’yc_ politician put his hands all over Obi-wan! Maybe he didn’t _have_ to bite him, but Obi-wan firmly forbade him to go into the room armed. He did have his boot dagger, but he knew that if he had used it, the redhead would have given him one of his never-ending lectures about civilized behaviour and propriety, and he would have given him that terrible look of sad disappointment and resignation. Really, that expression was a weapon in itself, Jango folded like wet flimsi every time it was addressed to him.

So he bit the slimy man. Sue him. He knew their mission was important. Obi-wan was supposed to be a rich aristocrat, coming to the convention to cultivate contacts and enjoy special “delicacies”. And he was supposed to be his kept man, someone between concubine and pet. So he knew he had to stay quiet and pretty and let Obi-wan charm everyone in sight as usual. But that didn't mean he was going to let some random overconfident schmoozer touch his Obi-wan! So really, he hadn't overreacted, it was perfectly justified to stab the dickhead in his rudely wandering hands. He knew that was probably going to blow their covers, but he wasn't going to just let it happen.

What he didn't expect was Obi-wan's quick reaction. As soon as blood was shed (pff, and so few of it), the redhead grabbed his wrist to jerk him back, and slapped him right across the face. Then he told him in a freezing cold voice that his behaviour was unacceptable, and that he was going to go back to their room and kneel on the floor, waiting for Obi-wan to decide his punishment. And he wasn't allowed to move or to speak, even if it took hours. Jango was completely caught unawares, but he realised that they were walking a very thin line, so he obeyed and fled the reception room. Hopefully that meant Obi-wan's role was preserved, and he could continue retrieving information.

But now he was alone in the small bedroom, and he couldn't slow his thoughts down. He didn't expect Obi-wan to wield authority with such... natural ease. The slap didn't really hurt, but his breath had hitched, and that surprised him. He couldn't stop thinking about it, and he didn't know when Obi-wan would come back so they could talk about it. Not that he was really sure he wanted to broach the subject. So now what?

He looked around the room. It was clearly prepared to welcome guests of various proclivities. Jango shrugged. He had nothing else to do after all. Why not jerk off? It would pass the time and maybe help him calm down a little. He rummaged in the nightstand and found a big bottle of lube, and Obi-wan's lightsaber. He snorted. Really? Sure they were frisked before going inside the reception room, and a lightsaber was a lot more difficult to hide than a small knife, but still. Obi-wan had a tendency to shed his few belongings everywhere. He took the handle and examined it.

The weapon wasn't too heavy, it was a good size to wrap your hands around, and a bit longer than he thought. It looked very unthreatening, but he knew very well how much damage a lightsaber could inflict. The button to turn the laser on was on the side, clearly switched off. The handle was a mix of gray and gold metallic tones. He twirled it in his hand, contemplative. He probably had a long time before Obi-wan came back. So he was “a bad pet”, huh. Well he was going to get creative and be even worse. He smirked. Yes, that was Obi-wan's fault for leaving his stuff unprotected.

He sat down on the bed, settling comfortably. He took the lube and put it on the pillow next to him. Then he arranged himself with his back against the wall, lightsaber on his lap. He trailed his fingers on the length of it, moving up and down. Considering his position, and the overall shape of the weapon, he couldn't help but think about Obi-wan's cock. It was a very nice, very pretty cock. All clean pink skin, with a slight curve to the left, and so sensitive. Jango started stroking the lightsaber, still thinking about his partner. Obi-wan liked to be teased, denied a little. He really liked when Jango thumbed the tip of his cock, spreading the wetness around. The fantasy solidified with Jango using the same motions he was used to during sex. Yes, when Obi-wan came back to the bedroom, they were going to take time for themselves and unwind.

* * *

Obi-wan was toasting with a group of unpleasant characters, politely chuckling at a truly appalling joke, when he sensed... something in the Force. He was shielding heavily, trying to stay inconspicuous. It was better if no one here suspected there was a Force user in their midst. But something was gently knocking at his shields, and curious, he cautiously raised them. A connection established itself, but he was trying to determine where it was coming from. Suddenly, he felt a featherweight sensation of fingers trailing over his skin. What... what was that? He cut his eyes to the corner of the room, trying to understand what was happening. Was someone trying to get his attention?

He readjusted his shields and tried to focus on the connection, following it back. The physical sensations sharpened and deepened. He could definitely feel hands on him now, brushing against him, stroking him. It was… distracting. And very pleasant, if he had to be honest. The bond was resonating strangely, in a way that was very familiar. Obi-wan did his best to ignore the way the phantom fingers were definitely concentrating on the lower part of his body now, and thought about it. It felt almost like a slight feedback loop, but not exactly like a living person… and he could sense how natural it was. Oh! His kyber crystal! Yes that was the reason why it felt so comfortable. But he had left it in their assigned room… where he had sent Jango 20 minutes earlier.

He refrained from rolling his eyes. Really, Jango. Considering how the other was furiously protective of his blasters and his armour, you would think he’d have the good sense not to touch other people’s belongings. Not that he really minded, but it was the principle of the thing. But what was Jango doing with his lightsaber… Oh. _Oh_. The hands were focusing on his groin now, and he was forced to adjust the fall of his clothes over his legs to hide the way his body was reacting. He nodded distractedly to whatever the other conversation participants were saying. He folded his hands in his sleeves, no need to show how they wanted to fidget. The phantom fingers were gripping his cock now, moving up and down. Jango wasn’t even here and he was making him feel good anyway. One limb was thumbing at the tip of his cock, drawing small circles on it. He exhaled shakily, and made himself regulate his breathing. Clearly he was going to need it.

* * *

Jango was really getting into it now. The fantasy was playing out in his head, he could imagine Obi-wan in front of him. In his mind, he was touching him, jerking him off, caressing the soft skin on the inside of his thighs. Those were always so delightfully sensitive. He licked his lips. He wanted more. He opened his eyes and looked at the lightsaber. It was… maybe a bit big. And definitely too long. But Jaster hadn’t raised no quitter, so he was going to try. He raised the weapon to his face, opened his mouth and exhaled. He should explore first. He stuck out his tongue, and licked the underside. It tasted metallic, and it left him with a small tingling sensation. Interesting.

He ran his lips along the length. He remembered most times he saw Obi-wan use it. The redhead was always so beautiful when he fought, the blue light giving a shine to his hair and his skin. Obi-wan was incredibly sexy when he was serious about fighting, when he was cutting down obstacles in his way… Jango realised he was breathing heavily, one hand gripping the lightsaber to stroke it against his mouth, and the other squeezing his still-covered crotch. Oh yes, thinking of Obi-wan being ruthless always put him in a state, and now that he had his weapon, his “life” as the other called it, he was getting horny very quickly. He needed it in his mouth, now. He could tell that the girth of it would stretch his lips a lot more than he was used to, but it would feel good. He could imagine its owner coming back to the room only to see him choking himself with it, and how embarrassing that would be, but also hot. He wouldn’t be able to deepthroat it, but maybe that would give ideas to Obi-wan…

* * *

The Jedi was having problems staying impassible. The connection didn’t stop, and clearly Jango was enjoying what he was doing, because that level of enthusiasm wasn’t what Obi-wan expected. He could now feel hands on him, and someone breathing on his groin. The familiar sensation was sharpened by the vibrating ringing of his kyber crystal, making his blood run even hotter than usual. He was almost unable to pursue any kind of conversation, he was grasping at his self-control with shaking hands. When he felt curious, coy kitten licks on his cock, he had to bite his lips _hard_ to avoid moaning out loud. Oh, that felt so good.

He couldn’t let on anything strange was happening, he was still in public and he felt very exposed, even if he was fully clothed. He breathed deeply, tried to slow down his heartbeat, and smoothed down his features. Jango was going to regret making him struggle with control in the middle of a mission. Suddenly, he felt probing fingers caressing and playing with his balls. Oh he was definitely going to make Jango regret this. Maybe roughly push him to his knees and fuck his face, if he was so hungry for cock.

A tongue ran on the underside of his dick, following the vein there with unerring accuracy. He ran quivering fingers through his hair, trying to focus on something, anything else. He couldn’t have an orgasm in the middle of the reception room! But the sensations were unrelenting. Lips and hands were playing him, stroking all his sensitive parts, thumbing at his glands. He spread his legs a little, trying to lighten the pressure. Kisses rained down his length, frisking with his tip. He could feel himself getting more and more wet, and he could only hope there wasn’t going to be a visible stain of pre-come on his clothes. He turned towards the buffet table, trying to compose himself. But he couldn’t control his reactions, he couldn’t stop it, and he didn’t really want to, at this point. It felt so warm…

Suddenly, the mouth opened and took his entire cock inside in one go. Immediately, his hand flew to his face and he had to bite it to muffle the groan he couldn’t hold back. It was wet and warm and tight around him, and he wanted to jerk his hips forward and sink even deeper into that willing throat. He could see Jango in his mind, looking up at him, hands on the back of his thighs, eyes teary, lips stretched around him, trying not to touch himself but desperate for more… He felt the other swallow around him, the heat in his gut flared up. The harsh squeeze and the hint of teeth made his balls go tight, and his eyesight went fuzzy for a few seconds. He stopped breathing. He blinked past the static in his view, and the ambiant noise of the room came rushing back. It was a miracle he hadn’t come on the spot.

That was it, he was done. He hadn’t been able to focus on retrieving any useful information for the past ten minutes anyway, there was no need to be stubborn and stay here. He nodded to his last conversation partners, making some vague noise about checking on his disobedient pet, to the general amusement and lecherous approval. He straightened himself as much as he could, adjusted his clothes for the last time, and left the room at a brisk pace.

* * *

Jango was lost in the fantasy playing in his head. His right hand was wrapped around the handle of the lightsaber, and his left hand had snaked down between his legs, slipping three fingers inside his hole. He didn't think he would get this turned on, but he had started feeling desperate for contact, for something to hold on to. He was pushing the weapon inside his throat, as far as he physically could. His lips were obscenely stretched around it, his cheeks were bulging, but the sensation was incredibly satisfying. He had forced himself to relax his mouth as much as he could, but he couldn't push very far. It wasn't a cock, he couldn't choke himself on it like he wanted. His jaw ached fiercely, but he wasn't inclined to stop. He was drooling, saliva dripping on his chest. He knew he probably looked a mess, but he was enjoying the situation very much.

He opened his eyes (he hadn't realised he had closed them), frustrated that he couldn't get a good angle with his fingers. He slowly took the lightsaber out of his mouth, drool sliding down the length of it and falling on his lap. He was panting heavily, and it was difficult to keep his eyelids up. Now he felt... alone, empty. He teased around his rim, but he knew he wanted more. He was so empty, he needed more, he needed to be full. He wanted Obi-wan with him right now, but he would make do.

He took the bottle of lube he had left next to the pillow, and stretched out his left leg to the side, exposing himself to the empty room. He made sure his hole was as slippery as he could make it, he would need to be careful. After applying so much lube on the lightsaber that it was shining, he brought it between his legs and gingerly pressed the handle against his entrance. Slowly, so very slowly, he pushed it inside. It felt warm, the metal heated by his previous treatment. It was so wide, he enjoyed the stretch but it sure was a _lot_. The sensation dragged a long moan out of him. It had definitely been a great idea, and he could imagine his lover’s reaction if he saw him right now. He would probably be taken by surprise, jaw slacked as he would scrutinize him from head to toe. He groaned.

"Aaah, Obi-wan…”

"Yes, darling?”

Wait, what? His eyes snapped open. Osik. Obi-wan was actually here, in the room with him. He stood next to the bed, hands clenched into fists at his hips, devouring him with his eyes. Tension was clearly running through his whole body, and the way his weight shifted on his feet made him appear ready to pounce. He looked infuriated, but also distinctively _predatory_. Jango froze, waiting to see what Obi-wan would do. He gave him an evaluating look, licked his lips, and spoke.

"I see you’ve found some way to occupy yourself. Did you get bored? You were supposed to stay kneeling on the floor.”

Jango sputtered.

"Wh-what, did you expect-” Obi-wan gestured sharply, cutting him off.

“No Jan’ika, you disobeyed. What, did you feel lonely? Neglected? You were so needy for my cock, you decided you couldn’t wait, and so you used the next best thing?”

Jango could feel his ears grow hot. His hands, frozen into position on the lightsaber and holding his legs open, started shaking a little. He didn’t know what to say. Obi-wan wasn’t exactly _wrong_ , but the way he put it was… embarrassing. He swallowed and opened his mouth, but no words came out. Obi-wan’s eyes softened. He sat down on the bed, took Jang’s left hand in his and stroked his fingers.

"It’s not alright, Jan’ika. You know my weapon is connected to me through the Force. I can sense it.” He shot him a pointed look.

"I could sense everything you were doing. Not that it wasn’t pleasant, but it wasn’t the right time for this. I couldn’t focus, I could have blown my cover completely because you decided to be difficult.”

Jango kept his eyes firmly on his lap. He realised the timing was inappropriate, but he couldn’t honestly say he’d thought about it. But he knew undercover missions could go wrong very easily, and it was purely luck that apparently no one here doubted their story.

"I'm…” he tried to say something, maybe apologise, but Obi-wan cut him off again.

"I know you understand what you did wrong. We’ll talk about consequences and your punishment later.”

Punishment? Jango raised his head up again, confused. They didn’t actually have that type of relationship, they only had sex regularly, fought together and protected each other. They weren’t even really _in_ a relationship (and he ignored the little voice in his mind that was calling him a fool and willfully blind idiot). Obi-wan maintained the intense eye contact, and turned the hand he was holding to press kisses on his knuckles, then to his palm and the inside of his wrist. Jango shuddered.

"For now, it’s clear you’re too worked up to concentrate on anything else. Better if we get this out of the way first.” Obi-wan batted away his other hand, and gently pushed him down on the bed, putting a pillow under his lower back. Then he took hold of his weapon, still pressed against Jango.

"Hmm you wanted this, right Jan’ika? It’s fine, I’ll give it to you.”

The bastard was smirking at him. Jango wasn’t going to be able to see that karking lightsaber without getting hard now. He might have played himself. But he hadn’t expected Obi-wan to get as enthusiastic about it as he was! The redhead took both of his wrists and put them above his head. Then he firmly gripped the lightsaber and started pushing it inside Jango. He exhaled shakily, somehow surprised again by the wide girth stretching him. It was a lot. Then Obi-wan established a rhythm, inside and out, slowly fucking him with the lightsaber. It was so hot. Jango whined, overwhelmed. Obi-wan shushed him, faux-concern on his face.

"Oh Jan’ika, what is it? Is it too much? Too much too soon for your little empty head?”

"AH! I… it’s... mMH!”

Obi-wan shook his head, amused.

"It’s fine dear, I’ll give you something to hold on.”

He enlaced their fingers, and leaned down, pinning Jango down on the bed. He nibbled at his jaw, under his chin, and behind his left ear. “Better like this, sweetheart?”

Jango swallowed and acquiesced. It was, actually. And now he could feel a familiar pressure against his mind, a comforting warmth that meant Obi-wan was in his head, making sure he really was alright with what was happening. He attempted to press back against the warmth, clumsily trying to express how on board he was with more sex. He was rewarded with the sensation of Obi-wan’s lips curling up against his neck. Then the rhythm of the lightsaber sped up. Jango could hear himself panting heavily, letting out small noises of pleasure. It was so good…

Obi-wan crooned at him, telling him how delicious he looked, taking his weapon so well, he was being such a nice needy pet… The heat in his gut intensified and curled tighter. The Jedi had apparently intertwined them closer in his head, because he could now feel himself, Obi-wan and his kyber crystal vibrating. It was _so_ much, so much _more_ than what he was used to. He could only hear static now, and there was a metallic taste on his tongue. The lightsaber was tugging at his rim, in and out, in and out, an unrelenting motion that he couldn’t escape, that he was helpless to. It felt so intense, so good, he wanted more. It was so good, and now he could only feel Obi-wan, Obi-wan, Obi-wanobiwanobiwanobiwan…

His orgasm took him by surprise, rushing over him like a powerful wave, turning his vision white for a moment. When he came back to himself, his throat felt a little raw, like he’d been screaming. He blinked and looked back at his lover. Obi-wan was contemplating him silently, eyes gentle.

"Better now, darling?” He nodded. Obi-wan smiled at him indulgently. Jango cut his eyes to the lightsaber, now innocently resting next to them on the mattress. He tried to catch his breath. He definitely enjoyed how Obi-wan used it on him, but curiously his mouth felt… empty after being stretched for so long around the weapon. Maybe Obi-wan would fuck him now, and let him get his tongue on the lightsaber at the same time. He felt a pang of renewed arousal thinking about it, and saliva pooled in his mouth. He looked back at his partner.

"Gimme your dick now”, he slurred. His eyes were half-lidded, his lips parted on panting breaths, his bronze skin flushed. He was a vision worth framing.

Obi-wan tutted. "No, I don’t think so.”

Jango pawed at his shoulders. The Jedi slapped his hands down and gripped his jaw, tilting his head up. "I said no, Jan’ika. You were a bad pet. And naughty strills don’t get rewards.”

Jango whined. Even if he wasn’t deeply connected to the Force right now, Obi-wan would be able to tell how much the other was enjoying this. His pupils were blown again and his arms were shuddering. He wasn’t doing anything to break his hold, and the longer Obi-wan squeezed his jaw, the more relaxed he became. He chuckled.

"But I can be merciful. Since you like my lightsaber so much, you’ll use it again. Fuck yourself on it, without using your hands, and we’ll see if I let you come.”

Jango shot him an imploring look, but he wasn’t going to budge. It wouldn’t do to encourage bad behaviour. He settled comfortably next to the other, intertwined their hands again, and smiled. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

_duraan'yc_ : disgusting (another invention)


	4. Day 4: Forced to work together/Handcuffs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4 times Jango and Obi-wan were around handcuffs while in each other's presence

1.

Jango was running after his latest bounty. The Bothan in question realised quickly that Jango was after him, and bolted. Now he had to chase him down, considering that bounty was for retrieval, not death. It was always easier when people wanted someone dead, you can’t outrun a blaster bolt after all. But no, this one had to be captured alive. So Jango was rushing after him in the lower levels of Coruscant, trying his best not to lose his target in the crowds.

He saw the Bothan turn around a corner, and put on a burst of speed to catch up. He also turned the corner and immediately ran chest first into someone, losing his balance. They both fell down, the other person groaning when they hit their heads on Jango’s chestplate. They were sprawled on the ground, arms and legs going everywhere. Jango felt kind of bad for the other one, a beskar hit to the face was never pleasant. He heard a clicking sound close to them, and raised his head just in time to see his target closing handcuffs on his and the other’s wrists. The Bothan smirked at him, waved a little and ran away. Jango huffed. Didn’t matter, he had put a tracker on his boot before he started the chase. But he would have liked not wasting his time.

He slowly got up, and extended his arm to the person he collided with. Actually, looking a little closer, it was more of a teenager than an adult. The kid took his hand and stood up, dusting his clothes before looking at him. Hm, he was pretty, Jango supposed. Short red hair, wide blue eyes, a few freckles adorning his cheeks… cute. The boy cleared his throat, and opened his mouth. Jango’s eyes snapped to the long braid he wore to the side of his head. Ah, _osik_. A Jetii. A karking baby Jedi. Just his luck.

“My apologies, I wasn’t looking where I was going. Your armour is… very solid.”

Jango held back a snort. Beskar’gam, solid. Sure, that was a way to put it. He shook his wrist, making the very short chain between his arm and the Jedi’s ring out.

“It happens, I should have been more careful too. But now we’re stuck together it seems.”

“Ah, yes. That’s inconvenient. I don’t suppose you have the keys for this… contraption?”

Wow the kid had a prissy tone. The soft lilt of his vowels showed his Coruscanti accent, but the vocabulary was all prim and proper Jedi. Urgh, now Jango was going to have a headache dealing with this.

“I don’t. Guess you’ll have to come with me, then.” Then he turned around and dragged the redhead, who stumbled behind him.

“Wait, what? Come where? We need to get out of these!”

“Believe me, I know. I’m working here, following a bounty, I don’t have time to babysit a karking Jedi, even less a child.”

“What- I’m not a child! I’m 18!”

“You don’t look it. Whatever, we’ll go back to my ship, I’ll find a way to break these cuffs and I’ll be rid of you.”

The Jedi huffed and pouted. His face was all sullen now. Heh. At least Jango could have some fun ribbing the other into a sulky state.

2.

Jango entered the room at a brisk pace. He didn’t like the Pyke syndicate, they were one of the criminals most responsible for the spice trade in the galaxy, after all. And he had his problems with spice. But, the Pykes paid and paid well, so as long as they honoured their contracts and didn’t screw him over, he would make do and work with them.

He settled next to the food buffet. He knew that the head honcho of this miserable satellite liked to make his visitors wait before acknowledging them. And the slimy Pyke was preening for his court, flicking his purple eyes to him to show he had been seen, and going back to monologuing about something. Probably his incredible greatness at whatever Rath liked. Jango didn’t know and didn’t care. He let his eyes run around the room, examining who was present and what they were doing. Constant awareness of his surroundings was very important in his job, especially when he was without backup in the middle of a criminal gang’s headquarters.

His gaze catched on a pretty redhead kneeling on the floor, next to a Trandoshan who was clearly his owner. The redhead had a chained collar linked to his handcuffed wrists. The restraints were surprisingly ornate, but considering the flimsy gauze playing at clothes that the young man was dressed in, maybe it wasn’t that surprising. The slave raised his head and met his gaze. Jango was suddenly glad for his helmet, because he was sure he didn’t keep the surprise off his face. He recognized him. That was the baby Jedi he had been handcuffed to a few years ago. What was he doing here?

The Jedi looked at him discreetly, giving his armour a scrutinising once-over. He seemed to recognise him too. Did he get captured and sold as a slave? Was that how he ended here, at the mercy of a Trandoshan and more largely, the Pyke Syndicate? That was a dangerous position, they weren’t known for taking good care of their slaves. The Jedi looked very calm, almost placid while the Trandoshan yanked on his hair, talking about how he was able to tame any creature in the galaxy. Jango was shocked to find he was getting angry. Angry on a Jedi’s behalf, who could have thought. The redhead glanced back at him, his lips curled oh-so-briefly and he. kriffing. winked at Jango. In the middle of the room, where anyone could see. Nobody was paying attention to a slave, but that wasn’t the point. The sheer audacity and brashness of the move made Jango smile. Ridiculous.

Clearly the Jedi was where he wanted to be. Probably on a mission, even if letting himself be enslaved and dragged into very dangerous places wasn’t exactly the best move. Whatever. If the redhead was fine with the situation, so was Jango. And he sure wasn’t going to say anything, to the oblivious Trandoshan or to anyone else. If the redhead was undercover, Jango wanted to see where it would lead. From what he remembered of the other’s personality, it promised to be entertaining.

3.

Obi-wan walked down the hallways of the Negotiator. The Jedi Council had kindly decided that since he and Jango Fett were… familiar with each other, the Mandalorian’s interrogation would be better conducted by him. And so Fett was transferred to his Star Destroyer, and now Obi-wan had to go talk to him and convince him to provide them with as much information as he was willing to give. Obi-wan personally didn’t have a problem with that, but his men weren’t exactly of the same opinion. Cody was still growling under his breath that if “the Prime” made one wrong move he was going to throw him out of the airlock. Obi-wan understood, the relations between Fett and the Vode were… tense; it was a very understated way to put it. But Cody’s unusual overtly displeased behaviour made him want to tease him a little. But ah, best he refrained and focused his energy on Fett.

He entered the room where Fett had been confined. The Mandalorian was sitting in front of a table, his wrists bound by heavy beskar handcuffs. Apparently, no one on this ship trusted him not to try something and pull some unexpected move. Cody had to be persuaded to stay outside the room, he didn’t think that his hostile aura would make Fett inclined to cooperate. He sat down on the other side of the table and smiled at Fett.

“Comfortable?”

“Not really, but I can’t say I’m surprised by the Jedi’s hospitality,” was the blunt response.

“Have you been mistreated since your willing surrender?”

“No, but clearly people aren’t happy to see me.”

“I wonder why that is,” he retorted blandly. Fett snorted.

“Hey, I’m here to give _you_ information, if you don’t want it, I’ll be on my way.”

“Now don’t be so hasty, I am here to listen to you after all.”

Fett shook his hands, making the handcuffs jingle.

“Now that we’ve established that we’re all here for a _civil_ discussion, feel like getting me out of these?” Obi-wan raises an eyebrow, amused.

“I don’t think so. Not that I don’t trust you…”

It was the other’s turn to give him a skeptical look.

“But I feel quite certain that it is better for both of our healths if your hands stay bound for a while.”

Fett leered at him.

“If all you wanted was to tie me up, you should have said something, _Kenobi_.”

Obi-wan could feel Cody’s murderous intent sharpen from the other side of the wall. He cleared his throat, trying not to laugh.

“I’m sure you understand that business comes before pleasure, _Jango_.”

They smirked at each other. Oh yes, conversation was going to be fun.

4.

They were lying on the bed, enjoying a rare moment of peace and quiet together. They were both on their back, cuddling and breathing the same air. Jango was slowly drawing circles with his right hand on Obi-wan’s back. The Jedi felt very relaxed, and let his mind wander. After a few minutes of silence, Jango asked him:

“You’re very quiet. What are you thinking about?”

He hummed in the back of his throat.

“You. And me.”

“That’s a vast subject.”

He acquiesced, and added with a mischievous glint in his eyes:

“I was also thinking about restraints.”

Jango’s hand on his back stilled. A beat passed.

“Restraints?”

“Hm-m.”

Jango let him fall on the mattress and stood up, walking away from the bed. Obi-wan sat up to watch where he was going. His lover walked to the chair where he had put his things and bent over to take his bag in hand. Obi-wan, chin in his hands, admired the curve of Jango’s ass while he foraged into his bag. A second later, Jango made a triumphant sound and turned back to him, waving around a pair of well-maintained beskar handcuffs.

“Restraints like these one for example?”

Obi-wan languidly stood up and slinked his way to Jango. He stopped in front of him, close enough that they could feel the other’s breath on their lips. Obi-wan smiled, teasing.

“Yes, exactly like these ones. I have several ideas…”


End file.
